


i’ll protect you from everything (but me)

by damipussycomplex



Series: love can be deceiving [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: :):):), Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Or Is he?, Trans Damian Wayne, Trans Male Character, bruce is a fucking dumbass as always, dami both loves and hates dick, damian is appalled by it, featuring tim drake’s awful text slang, it’s hinted!, onesided Tim Drake/Damian Wayne, tim is worried about damian, tim you sly little shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:02:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26414611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damipussycomplex/pseuds/damipussycomplex
Summary: Damian isn’t expecting to find an ally in Drake, of all people, but he supposes it’s a good idea to have someone so logical and mostly unbiased on his side, someone who won’t automatically believe Grayson over him, despite their many differences in opinion.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Damian Wayne
Series: love can be deceiving [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1864717
Comments: 20
Kudos: 124





	i’ll protect you from everything (but me)

**Author's Note:**

> i’m sorry for the wait but this is the first of a bunch of sequel ficlets, based on the aftermath of _let me show you how i love you_. hope you enjoy!

Damian has been lying still in bed for the past twenty-six minutes, wondering how he hasn’t woken Grayson up with the loud pounding of his heart in his chest. Grayson’s arm is draped over his waist, nose tucked into the back of Damian’s neck as his hot breath washes over Damian’s skin. 

Usually, Damian would lean back into him and fall asleep almost straight away, trusting that Grayson will keep him safe from anything that could possibly attack him in his sleep, but he knows that isn’t the case anymore. He should never have let his guard down — he _knew_ it would only end up leading to pain, and yet, he was still foolish enough to bring down all of his carefully crafted defences at the mere sight of Grayson’s warm smile.

He wrestles down the urge to claw at his own face and steadies his breathing as Grayson snuffles into his hair, hand tightening on Damian’s hip over the bruises he’s already left. 

Damian rubs his thighs together and winces at how sticky they feel, tensing up even more in Grayson’s arms. He can still feel Grayson’s come pooling between his legs from their latest escapade, dripping out of his cunt and leaking all over the sheets, and he _hates_ it. 

Hates how dirty it makes him feel, how sore he is, the way the come sticks to the fine hairs on his legs as it starts to dry up in thick globs all over them. But he can’t afford to take a shower and scrub the feeling of Grayson’s hands off his body, or clean himself up, because that will only lead to _more_ _._

As much as Damian may have enjoyed their time together during the night on patrol — excluding the times whenever Grayson felt horny — he very much did _not_ enjoy their daytime activities, which mostly consisted of Grayson both smothering and attacking him. And he definitely does not want to endure any more of it. 

So Damian carefully shuffles his way up to the edge of the bed with Grayson still wrapped around him, freezing when Grayson shifts in his sleep, mumbling Damian’s name as he follows him. Then he painstakingly slowly tries to free himself, gently pulling Grayson’s arms off him and quickly getting off the bed, replacing the warmth of his body with a pillow. 

Damian plucks his phone up off the small table next to the bed and waits for it to switch on as he carefully pulls his clothes on, cringing as he leaks through his boxers. He pulls a few tissues out of a packet in the drawer and stuffs them into his underwear, then scrolls through his contacts until he lands on the right one. 

Damian’s thumb hovers above the contact, hesitating before finally clicking onto Drake and sending a message — _I am cashing in a favour._

He sets the phone back down as he picks his backpack up off the floor and neatly places all of his belongings into it, slowly zipping it shut. Damian’s head snaps up when his phone vibrates on the table, echoing through the room, and he glances at Grayson, who’s starting to frown and smacking his lips together. 

He rushes to him and leans over the bed to place his hand in Grayson’s soft hair, pushing it out of his face and gently combing his fingers through it until Grayson’s face softens and he makes a soft, pleased sound, leaning into Damian’s hand.

Damian slowly pulls his hand back, staring at Grayson as if he’s almost in a trance before shaking it off and turning back to his phone, where it shows on the screen that Drake has responded to him with a simple _since when do I owe u a favour??_

_Don’t you remember the incident with Bane and the fear toxin?_ Damian texts back, and there’s a brief pause as though Drake is thinking about it before his phone vibrates again with a message a few moments later, lighting up his screen with _fine. wat do u want?_

Damian scrunches up his nose at the text speak but chooses not to voice his disdain, knowing that Drake will just use it as an excuse to not help him. 

_If anyone asks, you came to collect me from Grayson’s house and brought me back home._ Drake texts back again with one word — _why._ Damian’s hands shake and the phone nearly falls onto the floor.

He must have been staring at his phone for a lot longer than he’d expected because Drake is calling him now. Damian is grateful that his phone is on silent mode as he glances back at Grayson one last time, unable to control himself from padding over and pressing a light kiss to his cheek before leaving through the window, answering the call once he’s on the ground again.

“What?” He almost snaps into the phone. “Were you unable to restrain yourself to contacting me by message? Were you truly that _desperate_ to hear my voice?”

There’s silence on the other end of the phone for a few seconds before Drake speaks up. _“_ _The longer I don’t have to hear your bratty little voice, Damian, the better_ _,”_ he says, and Damian has already managed to anger him. _“_ _And hello to you too. All I’m doing is trying to help, but you’re still being ungrateful.”_

Damian forces himself to just breathe as he closes his eyes, then opens them again once his anger has mostly dissipated. “The fact that I did you a favour should be reason enough for you to help me. Now will you do it or not?”

_“_ _Damian —“_

“Drake, _please_ ,” Damian blurts out, and Drake doesn’t say anything, so Damian looks out at the streets as a lone car zooms past him, and apparently that’s what gets Drake to talk again.

“ _Was that a car, Damian? Are you outside?”_ He pauses, and then Damian hears a sharp intake of breath through the line as Drake suddenly realises what he’s doing. _“Damian, are you planning on making your own way home? All the way from Blüdhaven?”_

“That’s none of your business, and even if I was to do so, I do not require supervision. I am not a _child_ ,” he hisses, pulling the strap of his backpack further up onto his shoulder. “Now answer my question.”

_“Damian, I’ll do it, but just — I thought Dick was going to bring you back. Is everything okay?”_ Drake asks him, and his voice is suddenly softer, and Damian bristles when he hears the pity in it. “ _It’s the middle of the night and you’re coming home alone. Did — has Dick done something?”_

“Mind your tongue. Grayson has done _nothing_ ,” Damian snaps almost instinctively as his fingers tighten around the backpack straps, then he slowly uncurls them, breathing in deep. “Nothing out of the unusual.”

He wonders why he continues to defend Grayson after what he’s done. 

_“_ _Sorry_ _,”_ Drake rushes out. “ _I didn’t mean to imply anything, I swear. You just sound a little... anxious.”_

“I am more than fine,” Damian tells him. “I should be home by noon. I appreciate your assistance, Drake.”

_“Damian, wait —”_ Drake tries to say, but he’s cut off by the dial tone when Damian pulls his phone away from his ear and viciously jabs at the red icon on the screen, ending the call and locking his phone.

He stares at the blank screen for a moment before stuffing it into his jacket pocket, making his way through the streets of Blüdhaven until he finds the nearest convenience store and walks through the parking lot to the entrance.

Damian is about to head through the automatic doors when he suddenly feels as though someone is watching him, eyes burning into his back, making his hair stand on end. His fingers tighten around his backpack strap again and he slowly places his hand in his pocket, curling his fingers around the small dagger in it as he turns to look around.

He doesn’t see anyone other than a few straggling civilians and a homeless man sat on the sidewalk at the entrance to the parking lot, but his skin continues prickling uncomfortably as he reluctantly turns back around, still holding his dagger as he steps into the convenience store and tries to make himself seem as small as possible.

It’s not until he reaches the right aisle and starts to walk down it that Damian feels someone staring at him again, but other than him, the aisle is completely empty. Or so he thinks. Damian is looking through the different brands of pregnancy tests, seriously considering purchasing one of each of them and then heading towards the morning after pills when he hears a voice saying his name behind him as a hand touches his shoulder.

He whirls around, eyes wide, only to find Drake of all people standing there in a thick coat over the top of his bedclothes and a pair of sunglasses, staring at him through the tinted lenses. Damian’s heart feels as though it could shatter his rib cage and burst out of his chest any minute now as he stares right back, wondering if he should run.

“Damian, what are you _doing_ here? It’s the middle of the night, why are you alone?” Drake asks, keeping his voice low so as not to alert anyone in the store of their presence. It would not do either of them any good to create a scandal about the youngest Wayne turning up to a store on his own to buy pregnancy tests.

“That is none of your business, and I told you that I was _fine_. Now go away and leave me alone. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” Damian says shortly, pretending to peruse the other items available in this section.

But Drake grabs onto his shoulder and turns Damian to face him, and he has that strange look he always gets on his face when he’s about to tell Father that he’s not giving up on a case, even if it means he hasn’t slept more than five hours in the past week.

“Where’s Dick?” He asks, and Damian suddenly feels very cold and stiff, vibrating on the spot. “Why are you on your own and buying —” he looks down at Damian’s fisted hand and then back up, eyes scanning over his face. “— _pregnancy tests?_ ”

Damian swallows thickly and puts them all back, not bothering to make sure they are in the correct places before he turns and makes to leave, but Drake takes hold of his arm again, stopping Damian in his tracks. “Damian,” Drake starts, and he’s speaking more slowly now, maybe even hesitant. “I know about you and Dick.”

Damian freezes. “What _about_ me and Grayson?” He asks, slowly turning to face Drake again, and his hands are shaking.

Drake still looks hesitant, but he soldiers on. “About your — you know, your _thing_ with each other.” Damian is both horrified and relieved, even as Drake gives him a small grin. “You two aren’t exactly very good at being subtle. It sometimes makes me think that neither of you know the actual definition of the word.”

“What does _that_ have to do with anything?” Damian snaps, and he’s not going to deny their being in a relationship with each other. Drake is smart, and would see past his blatant lies far too quickly for Damian’s liking.

Drake’s face softens. “Damian. We both know you have an IUD, and that you take birth control very seriously. There’s only one possible reason that you could be here at this time, buying these.”

Damian’s mouth feels dry, and he opens it to say something in response but nothing comes out. “I’m right, aren’t I,” Drake says, and it should be a question but it sounds more like an affirmation as Damian finds himself nodding, eyes pricking with tears.

“He did it — he touched me whilst I was unconscious and unable to fight back,” Damian blurts out, voice strained, and Drake’s face darkens with anger.

“That utter _bastard_ ,” he curses, fingernails digging painfully into Damian’s arm, but Damian doesn’t say anything. “Fuck,” Drake sighs, running his fingers through his unkempt hair and then rubbing at his temples with both hands as he closes his eyes.

He opens his eyes again to look down at Damian, visibly concerned. “Look, I know we’ve had our differences —“

“That is a _severe_ understatement,” Damian interrupts him with a smirk, but Drake just smiles.

“Maybe so, but I want you to know that I believe you,” Drake says, and he actually looks serious enough that maybe Damian could believe him too. “I’ve got your back with this.”

“I am… grateful to you for that,” Damian stutters, and Drake’s smile gentles.

They stare at each other in silence for a while before Drake decides to speak up again. “My car’s parked outside.” He pulls his keys out and tosses them to Damian, who catches them as they jingle against his palm. “Go wait in it and I’ll bring you whatever you need.”

Damian narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. “Why? I do know how to make a purchase by myself. I don’t require your assistance.”

Drake sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Damian, would you _please_ just listen to me for once in your life?” He practically begs, holding Damian’s shoulders. “I’m doing this for _you_. You really think it’s _normal_ for a kid your age to be buying pregnancy tests and the like by yourself?”

Damian frowns at him, acknowledging his point. Maybe it would be quite… out of the ordinary for Damian to be making such purchases. But Damian still insists on doing this by himself — it is _his_ problem after all, not Drake’s.

“Drake, I can do it myself,” he says as he throws the keys back, and Drake frowns right back, starting to tap the bottom of his shoe on the floor.

“Damian, be reasonable,” he requests, and Damian bristles. “It might not happen, but do you want someone here to let it out to people like _Vicki Vale_ that you were here, buying this stuff? It’d be more — _appropriate_ if it was me buying it than you.”

Damian can understand his concerns, but he still cannot allow himself to depend on Drake for assistance. He depended on Grayson, almost _entirely_ , and that is what brought him to this wretched situation.

“No,” he says again, and Drake makes a sound of frustration, fingers twitching like he wants to do… something. Damian isn’t quite sure what.

“Damian, I will carry you to my car if I have to,” Drake threatens, and Damian’s face heats up in embarrassment at the mere thought. Though, he already allowed Grayson to rob him of his honour. Would there really even be that much of an effect if Drake were to steal his dignity too?

“Perish the thought,” Damian blurts out, scowling as he snatches the keys back. “I can make my own way to the car.”

Drake offers him a tiny smile and makes Damian swear that he won’t roll the window down or unlock the doors for any strangers — as if he is either a child who has no common sense, or he is unable to fight back against those seeking to take advantage of him. Then he ushers Damian back outside, promising to meet him in his car as soon as possible.

Damian trudges over to Drake’s inconspicuous grey Aston Martin and climbs up into the passenger’s side, closing the door and locking it before pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. He stays in this position even after Drake arrives, bag in hand, not taking off his backpack, all the way until they reach the manor, where Damian barely manages to wait for Drake to park the car before leaping out and running to the nearest shower available.

He scrubs and scrubs and scrubs until his skin is red and raw and squeaking, until the water eventually turns cold and manages to shock him into forgetting the feeling of Grayson’s hands dragging over his body and leaving the bathroom. Damian doesn’t bump into Pennyworth or Drake after that on the way to his bedroom, and he’s not sure whether he’s relieved or not.

Damian sits on his bed, clad in warm sweatpants and clean underwear and a thin shirt, water dripping from his wet hair down his neck and the curve of his spine as he deliberates over what to do, who to tell, if he should bother _telling_ someone else at all, even though Drake seems to have understood.

Eventually he brings himself to leave his room and makes his way to his father’s office, where he finds the man himself poring over paperwork and documents for Wayne Enterprises. His tongue is stuck to the roof of his mouth. He can’t bring himself to speak. Father only bothers to look up at him after Damian has been standing there in silence for approximately six minutes, probably wondering why Damian hasn’t said anything.

“Damian,” he says in greeting, and he doesn’t sound or look surprised that Damian has arrived home early, or that Grayson is nowhere to be seen or heard. Damian’s blood suddenly runs cold. Does Father already know? Has Drake told him what happened before Damian had the chance to?

“Father,” he gets out, sounding like he’s being strangled. Father’s blank expression doesn’t change but he blinks at Damian like he’s a specimen being inspected under the lens of a microscope. He certainly _feels_ like one.

Father doesn’t say anything further, so Damian just spits it out, unable to hold back any longer as he stares slightly to the left of Father’s face. “Grayson and I have had a — disagreement of sorts. Which cannot be resolved very quickly.” Father still doesn’t react, tapping the top of his pen against a thick pile of paper.

Damian swallows thickly and continues, chancing a glance at his Father’s face. “So I am requesting that we not be made to work together or speak to each other for the time being. It would make the dynamics on patrol awkward. I would not allow this to hinder my work or time as Robin,” Damian tries to justify, but there’s still no response. His palms are sweating. He wants to leave.

“Father?” Damian says softly, and his father grunts before turning back to his work, which Damian takes as a _fine, if you must_ , and quietly thanks him before leaving the office to head back to his bedroom and try to get some sleep.

He lies there in bed for hours, what feels like _years_ of no sleep, no peace, no rest from the nightmares which threaten to haunt him during the day too. His mind is too awake, too alert, too prepared to defend himself against an attacker. And yet, even with his brain working overtime, Damian doesn’t think to question why Drake just happened to know where he’d be or why Drake was there in the first place.

**Author's Note:**

> comments/kudos = my sustenance. feel free to leave whatever you like :)


End file.
